Through Our Eyes
by theabandonedboysx
Summary: What does Clove feel for Cato? Is it his power that draws her in? She doesn't know, but she's killing tributes while she tries to find out.
1. Chapter 1

**THE DINNER**

District Two. Masonry: where the land is filled with the brutal and merciless, and children are made into cruel warriors.

It was the night before the Reaping. Where everyone would gather to the main square to watch two children be chosen to fight each other and 22 others to the death. Clove was sitting at a long dining table at the Mayor's home, along with a few other people. Her mother was one of the head supervisors to the largest facility for training Peacekeepers in District Two. The other children sitting at the table also had influential parents, or a certain redeeming quality about them. Octavian, a boy with curly hair the color of aged wood, who had a father that trained a large fraction of the Peacekeepers distributed through Panem. Caius, who was observing the extravagant room with his crystal-like, cerulean eyes, was the most skilled in hand-to-hand combat at the training facility. Horatio, extremely attractive and also dismissive to compliments. Clove remembered back in the early years of school where he rejected all the girls' proclamations of love. And last but certainly not least, Cato. The Mayor's son. Blonde hair the color of wheat and icy cobalt eyes that pierced whatever he laid his gaze upon. He was brutal and fierce, excelling in physical warfare and also the best swordsman out of those able to be in The Hunger Games.

And then there was Clove. She had fair, porcelain skin, raven black hair, and her eyes a surprising brown that looked like melting chocolate. Clove was the only female teenager sitting at the table who was eligible for the Reaping. Both Clove and her mother were invited to the Mayor's home for a celebratory dinner in occasion of the 74th upcoming Hunger Games. Because this was a District where The Hunger Games didn't mean mourning or nervous anticipation. This was a District where The Hunger Games meant eternal glory, an object for honor, and of course, unlimited riches. District Two was always the main contender, because many of Panem's Peacekeepers were manufactured here, ready to be shipped around the country. And because District Two created soldiers, the children were trained in combat beginning when they were 12, and when they got to the right age, they would enter their names in for the Reaping.

"Very good of you all to come here," announced the Mayor, his voice booming across the vast room. "I know we're all very excited for tomorrow's events!" Clove's mother smirked at the Mayor and then turned her eyes to her daughter and glared at her intently, a smile still on her face, as if to say, _Be good here or I'll make you wish you were never born. _

"Now! I know all of you boys at the table think you're just going to lunge at the Tribute spot tomorrow at the Reaping, but I'll have you know that my son will be the Tribute, guaranteed!" said the Mayor as he shook his son's shoulder playfully. Cato gave the rest of the boys a crooked and snarky smile.

"And my daughter," Clove's mother interjected, "Will be getting the Girls' Tribute spot, no matter what. Isn't that right, _dear?_"

Clove stared at her mother for a while before slowly saying in a deadpan voice, "Yes, of course. No matter what."

_end __**THE DINNER**_


	2. Chapter 2

**THE REAPING**

The town square was crowded with the citizens of District Two. Children between ages 12-18 were rounded up, separated by gender, and lined up in order of seniority. Clove stood near the middle, with being 16 years of age. As she was pricked in the finger by Peacekeeper to confirm her identity, she observed the crowds. A small girl was crying as she tried to keep hold of her father's pant leg before the Peacekeeper tore her away. The look on the man's face was cold and hard as he watched his screaming daughter be dragged away from his touch to the female line.

Clove turned away, because although she was trained to be lethal, venomous, and a killer, she still couldn't stand the look of fresh young screaming for their loved ones. Not teenagers. Not children. But the small, helpless, and clueless ones. Those were the ones that she felt for. But no one else.

Soon, a Capitol citizen was standing upon the stage that the Peacekeepers had made in less than an hour, and he was announcing "Happy Hunger Games", and "Why don't we do the boys first". He was tall and thin, with periwinkle lipstick and a bald head tattooed with shining, silver swirls. His carnation pink suit had many overlapping layers that made him look like he was in the exoskeleton of a cockroach. Eyebrows were missing from his face. Heavily applied metallic white eye shadow made him look like a ghost. Clove couldn't bear to look at him anymore and see all the other details that made him so freakish. So instead, she stared at his hand as it rustled through the paper entries in the round, glass case.

He drew a slip of paper.

And it wasn't Cato.

Octavian moved to walk up to the stage to stand alongside the whimsical Capitol man. He was smirking triumphantly, and as Clove spotted the Mayor among the crowd, she saw that he was red with fury. And before she could think anything else-

Clove's name was called.

And suddenly the floor was swirling beneath her and everyone's faces were distorted and blurry and she wanted to fall and sink into the floor. And Clove wanted to remember how to breath but her lungs didn't agree and nor did her mind as it went blank until she saw her mother's face.

Glaring at Clove. Her eyes were scathing as she seemed to try and will Clove to walk up to that stage with her stare. And that was what woke Clove.

Briskly, she walked up to the stage, and stood beside Octavian. Her eyes scanned the audience that was her District. Not one of them, not even the ones she didn't know, would look her in the face. They all stared at the Capitol man.

"Would anyone like to volunteer, then?" piped up the man, raising his nonexistent eyebrows.

"_I volunteer!" _shouted a rough, harsh voice, sounding like grating metal. And suddenly Cato was lunging forward towards the stage and the Capitol man was saying, "Well! Look how enthusiastic he is! What a good example for all of yo—." Cato shoved Octavian out of the way and Peacekeepers took him off stage. And then it was announced,

"And it is my _pleasure _to introduce to all of you Clove and Cato, the Tributes of District Two!"

_end __**THE REAPING**_


	3. Chapter 3

**THE TRAIN RIDE**

Exchanges at the Justice Building were stunted and short. Clove was only told by her mother to make her proud. Octavian came in later to wish her luck and muttered under his breath that he hoped Clove would take out Cato when it came to that. And that's it: her superior mother who would enjoy the bloodshed of the show, and a boy who was sulking over the loss of an opportunity of fame.

Soon after the uneventful goodbyes, Cato and Clove were led to the train that would be taking them to the Capitol. Brutus and Enobaria gave the pair a brief welcome and then they ate. The lavish room was filled with luxury items: velvet curtains that were softer than a sheep's wool, crystal glasses that you could see your reflection in, and the food, oh, the food was rich and plentiful. Cato and Clove, although well fed, weren't used to food so delicious and extravagant. They ate good portions back home, but the food wasn't exactly wonderful. And soon Cato had finished a good portion of the plate of roast duck, he was stretched out in his chair in an almost relaxed manner, chewing on a duck bone hanging out of the corner of his mouth. Clove sat straight and still next to him, still picking at her green noodles slathered in a white sauce that tasted like wine and a creamy cheese. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore.

"Aren't you supposed to be giving us advice?" asked Clove scathingly as she looked pretentiously at Enobaria and Brutus, who looked like they were slightly drunk already from the Capitol wine. Enobaria sneered, baring her sharp, golden teeth at Clove.

"We've got time," slurred Brutus, almost merrily. "And besides, our District's got the most Victors…all the other kids before you never worried about _advice. _Think you won't do well or something?"

Clove laughed harshly at the idea of 'not doing well'. She then glared intensely at both of her mentors before she said, "I can bet that I could throw knives farther and better than the both of you put together. I can kill anyone. The only reason I'm asking for your _advice _is because District two doesn't teach us how to act with the Capitol, how to conduct ourselves. I want to be the best, and you two know what these Capitol freaks love. But from how you're acting right now, _I'm not so sure I'd want your help." _

Enobaria looked as if she could strangled Clove on the spot, saying, "You little _brat, _you should be grateful that I'm mentoring you at all! If you're going to be so inconsiderate, I might just decide to lead you to your death, right at the bloodbath." Her golden teeth shined with spit and flashed as she talked. Clove could have burned holes into Enobaria's face by the burning stare she was returning, but she didn't reply.

"I don't need any of your help," said Cato suddenly, as he sat up straight in his chair. "I can win this, whether you decide to give me advice or not."

"You'll need to know how to act," replied Clove as she stood up from her chair and made her way to the door. Everyone was contradicting her and she was getting angry to the point of yelling. "_You'll never win anything if you don't know how to please the Capitol!_"

She opened the door that led to the section of the train where their bedrooms would be, leaving a stunned Cato and two irritated mentors behind her.

_end __**THE TRAIN RIDE**_


	4. Chapter 4

**A TALK BETWEEN CLOVE AND CATO**

It was two hours later. Clove was in her room, slipping out of her Reaping dress after having fallen asleep in it. It was midnight blue, made of silk, and gathered around her ribs with the skirt ending just above her knees. This was her favorite dress, and the only thing she really felt attractive in. She knew she was strong, she knew she was skilled, but her appearance was the only thing she was never confident about. Her small stature and petite body, Clove was never considered lush and seductive, which always helped win over the crowd.

Suddenly the door opened.

"Clove, Brutus says that we're almost at the Capito—" Cato froze, eyes widening as he saw Clove standing half-naked, still taking one foot out of her dress and only wearing undergarments.

"_Get out!" _shrieked Clove as she snatched the comforter from her bed and clutched it at her chest to cover herself. Her face was burning bright pink. "_Get out now!" _

She ran up to him and tried shoving Cato out of the room, but only succeeding in closing the door tighter as Cato's body slammed against the door from Clove's push.

"Stop it!" said Cato as he took her shoulders with his powerful hands and thrust her aside. "Just go into the bathroom, I won't look!"

Only wanting to get out of this awkward situation as quickly as possible, Clove complied. She grabbed a random dress from the closet and ran into the bathroom. On the other side of the bathroom she could hear Cato give a heavy, heavy sigh. And here she was, in the bathroom, embarrassed beyond recognition. When she was still in the District Two Justice Building, Clove had already decided that she would ignore Cato for the most part: his brutal strength and cocky attitude was a bit much for her. But here they were, Clove hiding in the bathroom as she changed and Cato sitting outside with image of his half-naked District partner probably burned into his head. So much for ignoring each other, then.

Clove examined herself in the bathroom mirror. Her dress was a deep maroon, and she wasn't sure if she exactly liked it. It made her look…different. The skirt was flowing and weightless, ending just at her shins. The top was tight, with short sleeves that cut off just halfway down her bicep. It made her look older…and taller.

Shrugging, she left the bathroom and upon seeing Cato sitting on her bed, the previous ten minutes flashed back into her mind rapidly. Clove turned a light shade of pink and her face defiant or perhaps slightly angry.

"What were you saying, then?" asked Clove as if Cato had never walked in on her in nothing but underclothes. "Something about Brutus?"

Cato stared at Clove for a little while before slowly saying, "We're about half an hour away from the Capitol." He sat on her bed with his elbows on his knees, twiddling his thumbs. Clove sat on the bed near Cato, still a considerably amount away from him, but on the same bed nonetheless.

"Okay." replied Clove quietly. She stared out the window as the train seemed to rock the bed gently back and forth, almost like a mother cradling her child to sleep. For a moment Cato raised his eyebrows in confusion, but she didn't see that. All she did was stare out the window in silence. In a few minutes, she appeared to have forgotten that Cato was in the room. He didn't exactly know what to do, and was beginning to feel bored before deciding to say,

"I didn't know you even talked before today. Back at District Two, you never said anything. You just kind of sat there and stared. Like right now. Even at the dinners my father invited you to. The only times I've heard you ever say a word was when your mother ask you something. So today was different, then. You were screaming and angry. I've never seen you like that before. Given, I've never seen much of you at all."

Clove didn't respond, thinking about back home. She talked because her mother made her talk. She didn't talk because all she needed to do was throw knives and fight. She talked because she would say what her mother wanted her to. She didn't talk because her mother didn't need her opinions. Instead, those thoughts and ideas she never voiced all swirled in her head, locked up in some place in the back of her mind. And these thoughts were bloodthirsty and angry. In some way, they did twist her into something different. Something animal.

But here, where her mother's presence was missing, a heavy weight was lifted off her chest. She didn't need to hold back her opinions anymore. Now Clove's mind was all her own and she said what she wanted and acted the way she needed to. And if she was going to be successful with the Games and a hit with the Capitol people, she needed to be bold and brash.

"I don't need to hold myself back anymore." said Clove simply after the long silence between the two.

"…I'm going to dinner," muttered Cato as he stood up and made his way to the door. He stopped right before the doorway and turned his head toward Clove. "You look nice in that dress, by the way."

"Thank you—"

"But you looked better without a dress on at all." interrupted Cato, smirking with an absolute air of sauciness. Satisfied at Clove's astounded and offended face, he gave her a smug look.

_end __**A TALK BETWEEN CLOVE AND CATO**_


	5. Chapter 5

**THE CAPITOL AND THE PARADE**

Despite that the journey to the Capitol took less than a day, Clove stilled trained on the way there. Between the argument with her mentors and that awkward situation with Cato, she had asked the attendees on the train whether or not there was equipment for working out. They led here to a train compartment where she could at least lift weights and box. After changing out of her dress, she went and worked her arms and jogged around the train a few laps. Cato caught sight of her training and decided to join along. Clove finished an hour later, showering and changing back into her dress, then falling asleep. When she woke up, that was when the predicament with Cato occurred.

But now, the train had stopped, and they arrived at the Capitol. Clove had gone back to the dining compartment with Cato, Brutus, and Enobaria. Crowds of Capitol citizens stood outside, screaming and cheering as they peeked out the windows. Clove wasn't looking at the people, though. She was staring the buildings and streets and shops. They were all enormous, glittering colors showing with the sun beaming down on their reflective windows and walls. District Two's televisions couldn't compare to the actual presence of the Capitol. It was like walking right into a whole new world. In a way, it was. Every single one of the people there were alien like in their appearances. Hair and skin that was colored like candies back home, outfits that were grand and eccentric at the same time, and voices that sounded so different from everyone else's. Their clipped constants and high pitched voices called out to them as they walked down the pathway, off the train.

"Amazing, isn't it?" shouted Brutus over the commotion. Enobaria gave the crowd a wave and a smile, her golden, sharp teeth gleaming. And the Capitol crowd loved it. Their screaming escalated at the sight of two previous Victors, their own little treasures. Everyone always loved previous Victors, especially when they had altered themselves to the Capitol citizen's pleasure, like Enobaria and her teeth.

Soon they were ushered into the Remake Center, where each tribute's prep team would firstly make the tributes look at least presentable, and then they would let the stylist present their costume for the parade. The parade, which happened around the Capitol's town square, the City Circle, was a way of 'expressing' each District's culture. More or less, though, it was a way to make sure you're remembered and to make a good first impression. A frivolous Capitol citizen could take a liking to you, or at least your costume, and decide to sponsor you.

Clove was laid down on a metal table, accompanied by three people around her, all part of her prep team. They stripped her of all unwanted body hair, from her eyebrows to her legs to her underarms. Brutus and Enobaria gave her no directions on how to act around the prep team, so Clove ended up exclaiming her pain each time they ripped a chunk of her hair out.

"_Ugh!" _cried out Clove as they tore the last strip of hair off her legs. They proceeded to apply an ugly looking cream the color of egg yolk to every inch of her skin. It tingled and burned, but eventually died out to a cool feeling that soothed her skin. After a few minutes of letting that sit on her skin, they hosed her down.

"Good," said one of them, inspecting Clove's body. The person's lavender hair was slicked back and long, and their skin was pure white and unnatural. Long, fake eyelashes that looked like small flowers protruded from her eyelids. "You look at least natural now. I thought you were a boy at first, with all that hair! Plus, you should try smiling more. Scowling all the time doesn't compliment your face!"

Back in District Two, there wasn't really any need to rid your body of hair or to look glamorous. All that mattered was your strength, your competitiveness. As long as you could take down someone twice your size, you were fine. No one cared about your appearance. It was all about power back there.

"Thank you, but I can take care of myself," replied Clove coldly. "I'll look pretty for the parade and the interview, but once I'm in the arena, it won't matter how I look. As long as I can kill, I'm set. I'd like to see my stylist now, if we're done."

The prep team looked offended, one even sporting tears in his eyes as they led her to a small and white room.

"Fausta will be in the back," said the teary member of the prep team tremulously. "You'll be back outside in an hour."

Clove walked into the room, adorned in a white robe. She hoisted herself up on the second metal table inside, waiting for Fausta to appear.

"You must be Clove, I assume." said a steely voice from behind. Clove jumped and turned her head around to see a woman who was dressed in reflective, silver robes and several clinking bangles. Her sapphire hair, twisted with jewels, seemed to move on its own as she walked towards Clove.

"And you must be Fausta," answered Clove cautiously, taken aback by the hard voice that addressed her.

"Please remove your robe."

Clove obeyed. Fausta circled Clove, scrutinizing her body and nodding her head a few times. She handed Clove back her robe and sat down in a chair opposite her.

"District Two is about power and strength," stated Fausta as she stared straight into Clove's eyes. "And from power and strength comes superiority. Which is what I've always channeled into this District's costumes and clothing. I want you to look as if no one else could compete with you, that the very idea was laughable."

Finally. Someone who understood. Clove was beginning to like this stylist and her ideas, because they were right. District One and Four may have also been Career Districts as well, but they weren't like District Two. The others caught fish and made luxury items, so they were fit, perhaps. But District Two created soldiers. They fought and trained every day. The Hunger Games was something that District Two was made for. What Cato was made for. What Clove was made for.

"What's our costume, then?" asked Clove, eager to see what Fausta had created for them. Fausta walked to the back of the room, and emerged with a mannequin covered in a sheet. Placing it in front of Clove, she removed the sheet and at first, the gleam of gold threw her off.

But there it stood. Something that represented power and dominance; something that represented District Two. It was a kind of armor, made of gold. The head piece had a band of metal with wings protruding out from each side. The chest piece corresponded, golden metal feathers layered like a bird's chest. Arm bands and tall boots. All of it looked commanding and authoritative.

"It's wonderful," whispered Clove as she stood up and stroked the chest piece. "It really does make me think of home."

"Good. That's what I was aiming for. We'll do your makeup right now, and then you can put this on."

The prep team was let back inside, this time only guardedly addressing Clove as they applied her makeup. Metallic gold eye shadow was dusted onto her eyelids and long, feathery fake eyelashes were applied. A gloss was applied to her lips, making them shine. Her long and glossy black hair was done in waves that were tied back. And soon, she was wearing the armor of Fausta's creation.

She looked into the mirror and what she saw staring back was a creature of blood thirst and supremacy. Clove looked powerful. Clove looked beautiful. Clove looked dominant.

Clove looked like how any tribute from District Two _should've_ looked. She was shunted outside because the parade was beginning soon, and saw Cato nearby in the same costume. Walking over, she saw the chariot that was prepared for them. Black, muscular stallions were the ones going to be pulling them along. Both Cato and Clove climbed aboard their chariot and soon the opening music was blaring soundly.

"I want you two to look ahead and pay no attention to the crowd," called Fausta from below. "Look almost as if you're bored. Look like you're better than everyone else!"

Cato and Clove glanced at each other and smirked.

"We can definitely do that," replied Cato as the humongous gate started to open. Clove gave a small laugh at that statement as the chariot began to move.

A blast of light came upon them, and soon the screams and cheering of the Capitol were poured upon them.

_end __**THE CAPITOL AND THE PARADE**_


	6. Chapter 6

**THE NIGHT BEFORE TRAINING**

"What the hell was that?" hissed Clove as she stalked into the elevator with Cato coming along behind her. She hit the button labeled '2' with her fist and stood rigidly inside the glass elevator with her arms crossed. "All of the sudden that deprived District Twelve comes in with their flaming suits and the crowd is all over them!"

"I know," agreed Cato in a stony voice. "I can't believe it. They'll have sponsors crawling all over them. Funny how the saddest District got the best stylist, isn't it?"

"No, it isn't!" snapped Clove as they walked onto their floor of the building. She ripped the head piece off and threw it across the room. It smashed into a vase and brought it crashing to the floor. Wrestling out of the chest piece, Clove was fuming. She hated being beat at anything, and at such an event as The Hunger Games, failure was not an option. But suddenly it was, after District Twelve came out with their magnificent costumes and stole the show.

She was still wriggling out from under the chest piece when Cato walked over and pulled it off of her. He held it out to her warily, just in case Clove decided to take the chest piece and hit him over the head with it. Not that he couldn't snap her in half like a twig, though.

"Thanks," she said shortly, still glaring as she replied to him. "I'm going to go change out of the rest of this worthless costume. Tell me when dinner's ready."

"Fine. Try not to destroy your bedroom until then," retorted Cato brusquely as he turned to walk towards his own room. "Better yet, try not to wreck the whole floor!"

Clove heard him slam the door shut behind her, slam it hard enough for the hinges to break. She stepped into her room and stripped herself of the rest of the costume and walked into her bathroom's shower. Hitting a few buttons, she stood in the hot drizzle of water, letting it tickle her face as it slightly washed away her fury. When she was dry and moisturized, Clove placed her hand on the box that sent a current up through her body and through her hair, drying it instantly along with untangling it. Her obsidian hair, now smelling like mint, fell along her shoulder in glossy waves.

She walked out of her room, chose a simple grey tunic and black pants, and walked out into the dining room, which was relatively empty except for the few attending Avoxs. Hearing footsteps behind her, she turned around to see a shirtless Cato walking out of his room, his hands busy with drying his hair with a towel.

"Where are Brutus and Enobaria?" inquired Clove as she tried to avoid looking at Cato's muscular chest.

"Probably out drinking with some of the Gamemakers or Capitol people," said Cato as he threw his towel onto the nearby loveseat. "We should just eat without them. I don't care whether or not they'll be angry at us. It's not like they won't see food on the table ever again."

Clove snorted and said, "Very true." She grabbed a plate and topped it with thin slices of roast beef, a little side of greens with tiny versions of tomatoes, and thick noodles covered in a creamy green sauce. Walking over to the loveseat she flopped down upon it, some of the noodles already in her mouth. After Cato filled up his plate, he sat down next to her and grabbed the remote to turn on the large television that hung on the wall before them. The rerun of the Tribute parade was playing.

"You smell like mint." stated Cato as he bit into a slice of roast beef. Clove, who was in the process of swallowing her noodles, choked at the sudden deduction. Coughing, she grabbed at the glass of water sitting on the coffee table and chugged it.

"And?" said Clove, still gasping slightly as she glowered at Cato.

"And nothing," said Cato. He turned back to the television. "You just smell like mint."

Her eyes narrowed as she stared at him before turning her head to watch the tribute parade play on the large television. The chariot pulling District Twelve had just appeared, their black unitards flaming and the shadows they created dancing across the tributes' faces. You could tell that no one else could compare to them by the escalation of screaming coming from the Capitol crowds surrounding the City Circle.

She heard a sharp intake of air coming from Cato, and she glanced at him, seeing his arms crossed tightly as if he would never unwind them for another thousand years. A muscle in his jaw repeatedly twitched as the cameras stayed trained on the District Twelve tributes. Clove also felt peeved, staring at their blazing costumes that their clever stylists had created for them. But she was also, in a way, comforted because it wasn't the tributes that were amazing. It was their stylists. In reality, they had nothing of their own to show, it was really just them made beautiful by the Capitol.

"They're nothing," said Clove carefully as to not anger Cato any further, because she had seen him break necks before back in District Two. "They're nothing without their stylists to make them look nice. For all we know they could just be stupid kids who can't use a weapon to save their life."

"_But that doesn't matter!_" shouted Cato as he swiped his dish off the coffee table and let it smash to a thousand pieces on the ground. "_It doesn't matter because they'll get sponsors!_ They _could _be incompetent with weapons, but they've been made desirable by their stylists! Look at the crowds! They're cheering louder than when we were out there! And the Capitol people are fickle enough to just sponsor them _because their costumes were pretty_, you know that."

"Cato, calm down." shushed Clove, not wanting any of the Peacekeepers guarding their building to come in and snoop around. Cato smashed another plate that was sitting on the table. "Cato! You'll get in trouble with the Peacekeepers and we can't afford for you to get taken away or something because you've bashed up our living quarters!"

Acting only out of instinct, she clasped Cato's face and looked straight into his crystal clear eyes, seeing her own reflection in them. "Stop. It. Now."

Panting, Cato took a deep breath and his shoulders slumped forward. Quickly, Clove took her hands off his face and told him, "I get it. But even if they've got sponsors, they can't beat us. We're the most serious contenders in the Games. We shouldn't be worrying about them. We shouldn't be worrying about _anyone. _They should be worried about us, and they probably are. Once we're in the arena, nothing will stop us. Because even if they've got whatever their sponsors send them, I've got my knives and you've got your sword. We can win this."

Cato gave her a long and hard stare, absorbing her confident words. Finally, he nodded.

"You're right. They're nothing. We'll beat everyone else."

_end _**THE NIGHT BEFORE TRAINING**


	7. Chapter 7

**THE TRAINING CENTER: DAY 1**

The next morning, Clove woke up to an outfit that consisted of tight grey pants, a navy blue long sleeved tunic, and supple, black leather boots. As she changed into the clothes that were set out for her, she felt excited for the first day of training. It was the time to actually exercise her talent and use weapons that were alike to those provided back at the training facilities back at District Two. Back on the train, all she had were weights and sandbags for boxing. Now she could access swords and spears and dummies to practice with.

And now that everything was based on talent, Clove knew that both she and Cato were going to shine. There wasn't going to be any stylists or costumes there to make everyone else look good. Now it was about how well you could climb a rock wall, throw a dagger, or spear a dummy. None of the Gamemakers cared about how you looked by this point. And this was what Clove was waiting for. She could finally overtake those wretched tributes from District Twelve that got everyone's attention just because they were lit on fire.

She walked out into the hallway in time to see Cato come forward from his room. He was dressed in the same outfit as her, the only differentiation being that his shirt was crimson. It was funny, almost. Clove who was dressed in blue was as cold as ice, not moving much in her hardness. And then there was Cato, who was dressed in red and as angry as fire, and ever moving like the dancing tendrils of a flame.

"Good, you're both up," said Brutus as he emerged from the dining room. "We've got a little suggestion for the both of you before you go into your first day of training."

Clove narrowed her eyes and strolled into the room, crossing her arms defensively before saying venomously, "I don't need it. It's not the interview or anything. It's training. You know that this is what we're made for, and _I _know that this will be what I'm best at. Save your '_advice' _for something that we actually need your help on."

She turned to walk towards the exit, but Brutus grabbed her from behind and spun her around. His hands were strong and his clutch was hard. Actually, it was almost painful. Clove was staring straight into Brutus's face, which was twisted into a sneer. The stormy, grey eyes that were boring into Clove's own eyes were clouded with a fierce intensity.

"Let go of me—" began Clove, but Brutus's grip on her arms only grew stronger. She let out a cry of pain. Cato made to move toward the both of them, shouting, "Hey!" But Brutus shoved him aside with one arm, him being physically larger. Cato hit the wall behind him hard, and the impact knocked the breath out of him.

"You know that the Careers fight in a pack," snarled Cato as he rubbed the part of his chest that Brutus had hit. "You can't just beat up my District partner because she was smart with you! She needs to be fit for the Games!"

"Shut up, you don't know anything," growled Brutus. He turned back to Clove and moved his face in, their noses were almost touching. "You listen here, girl. I'm your mentor, and you're gonna listen to me. I don't care if you _need _the advice or not. You're going to sit there and listen to me, or you're gonna get no advice at all. Not even with the stuff you don't know how to do, like your interviews. So you better start listening now, or I won't think twice about letting you die in the bloodbath. It's not like I've never seen kids from District Two die!"

He spit out the last sentence, letting saliva spray onto Clove's cheek.

"_Fine!"_ shouted Clove as she continued to struggle against his grasp before Brutus finally let go. She fell into a chair at the dining table and clutched the corner of the table tight, look almost as if she could murder Brutus right there and then.

"Since training starts in less than half an hour, I'll make it quick for you," said Brutus as he pulled up a chair and sat down. "Show them what you can do, this day and the two days coming. But leave something unexpected for the judges on the third day of training. Never do the same thing twice. Intimidate them; show them that you're not afraid. That includes the other Careers. You might team up with them now, but in the end they're gonna die. You can trust each other for the time being, until there are only five or so tributes left. I'd recommend you two split apart by then if you don't want to be the ones killing each other."

Both Cato and Clove nodded assent, and Brutus dismissed them. As soon as he said 'go', they practically dashed out of the room like schoolchildren who had just been scolded after class.

"He thinks he can just damage us," said Cato heatedly as they made their way to the elevator. "He's already been in the Games; he should know that we need to be in the best condition when we start, he can't just bash us around!"

Clove made a "tcah!" noise and they descended down to the Training Center.

"Whatever he says, let's just get out there and start training. It already feels like it's been forever since I've gotten my hands on real weapons." replied Clove as they joined the group of tributes standing in the middle of the gymnasium.

A lean and tall woman stood in front of the crowd, wearing a sleek jumpsuit that had the Capitol's symbol printed largely on the back.

"My name is Atala," said the woman. She gestured to the stations behind her. "You'll be going from station to station here in the Training Center for the next three days. It isn't required for you to stay with your District partner. If you want to practice with someone, you can use the dummies provided or call for a trainer who will be able to conduct hand to hand conduct with you. Battling with other Tributes is strictly forbidden. One the third day here, you will be judged by the Gamemakers in a private session during the morning. By the evening, you will get your training score. Later that evening will be your interview. You can begin your training now."

Atala walked up to the platform where the Gamemakers sat, all adorned in majestic, deep purple robes.

Clove immediately dashed over to the area that contained her precious, precious knives. Her hands were itching to start throwing them. Grabbing from the many assorted knives, because really, she could throw every single one of them with excelled precision, she found a dozen dummies to practice on. Knowing that the eyes of many of the other tributes were on her and her numerous knives, she smirked.

Without giving any warning, she suddenly lashed out, throwing knives in every direction, her wrist flicking the knives towards the dummies, each sharpened blade stabbing them directly in the heart. Clove could hear a few gasps around her and someone's footsteps as they scattered away from her and her general area. Pleased with this reaction, she plucked two dainty, small knives from the collection of weapons and threw them directly at a dummy's eyes.

Cato, who was on the other side of the room, saw Clove amidst her little demonstration with her knives. He was impressed, even stopping in the middle of training with swords to watch her as she threw the daggers in a way that almost resembled a dance. It was graceful, it was deadly. And Cato was secretly grateful that Clove was on his side, because quite truthfully, she could probably cut anything she wanted to with those knives.

Dispelling those thoughts from his head, he returned to working with his sword. Small piles of decapitated dummy heads and sliced up torsos littered the ground around him. And there was still more to go. Along with the dummies, he also practiced with the trainers that he beckoned over, and they were afraid of him. Oh, they were afraid. With enormous stature and his strapping build, he was definitely one to fear. Every time he battled with a trainer, they would be on the ground in seconds with a sword to their throat, their chest, or their head. And Cato enjoyed every bit of it.

The show of dexterity coming from Cato was not missed by Clove. She had finished the station with knives and was walking over to hand-to-hand combat as she watched him hack away at the dummies that stood around him or the trainers that he fought against. It was amazing how strong he was…how skilled he was with the sword. It pulled her in…it was alluring in a way. The power, the blood thirst, the fury he channeled through each slash of the blade.

Clove loved every bit of it.

_end __**THE TRAINING CENTER: DAY 1**_


	8. Chapter 8

**THE TRAINING CENTER: DAY 2 + THE TRAINING SCORES/INTERVIEW**

It was the second day in training and Clove had now moved on to other stations that consisted of rock climbing, hand-to-hand combat, and training with various swords or spears. It felt great, to be able to use these weapons and train like she used to back in District Two. It also boosted her confidence (as if she really needed the boost, though), in that she could kill every single one of the tributes in the Training Center.

And that included Cato. She might've felt attracted to him, or at least attracted to his power, but that only increased the competiveness she felt towards him. He was handsome, sure, but that wasn't why Clove was drawn to him. If anything, it was that she strived to be better to him, and his energy was of such potency that it drew her in. The way he attacked, so ferocious in his technique. He was merciless.

Clove was merciless too, but she was in a way that was more…elegant, you could almost say. She threw knives with litheness, bending in the air as she sent a blade towards someone's vital organs. Cato was more direct, smashing someone's body until their life before his eyes drained out. Clove was quick, only wanting for her aim to be perfect, because if it was, she wouldn't have to worry about anything else.

Together, they would be unstoppable.

Before, the day of the interview, an incident occurred. One that could have probably gotten the pair eliminated from the games if they weren't such favorites of the Gamemakers. It began when Cato, fighting with spears nearby Clove, who was beginning to feel drawn towards the knives again.

"You know, Brutus said not to do the same thing twice," said Cato, his lips millimeters from Clove's ear. She jumped, instantly grabbing a long bladed knife and by instinct, she spun around and held the blade to Cato's neck.

Smirking, Cato grabbed Clove's armed hand and shoved it away.

"Just because you can play with kitchen tools doesn't mean you can do anything to me with them," said Cato, leering. "You and your dainty little knives can't lay a scratch on me."

As he turned and walked away, laughing, something whizzed by his ear. Before he could turn to see what it was, the whistle of another airborne object went past his other ear.

Knives. They hit the man-shaped target that stood in front of Cato. He turned around, eyes widened in surprise.

"Just because you're bigger than me," began Clove, laughing lightly as she plucked another knife from the assortment next to her. "Doesn't mean that I can't aim a knife at your heart and kill you."

"So that's how you want to be, huh?" retorted Cato as he seized a short bladed sword that he had earlier tossed from a previous station. His face looked eager at the challenge, and he walked up slowly to Clove until they were inches apart. He looked down at her face, his mouth twisted into a smirk as he brought his blade up. Cato pressed the flat side of his blade against Clove's cheek, pushing her face to the left. "If you really want to fight, let's do it now."

She dashed backwards from his blade, her arm slashing down as she sent four knives flying from her hand in silver streaks towards Cato. Reacting quickly, his moved his sword to deflect the knives, sending them clattering to the ground as he made his way towards Clove. She ran towards him as well, twisting into a dance as she directed a knife towards his temple, but Cato smacked the knife away again. Clove was laughing as she went back and forth with Cato, gleeful that she had such a skilled adversary to battle. This took Cato off guard, he lowered his sword.

And that's when Clove darted up to him, and held a knife to his neck and another knife to his sword hand. Pressing her body against his as she stood on her toes, she whispered into his ear, her breath tickling his earlobe.

"Guess who could kill you, right now, with her 'dainty little knives'?"

A few trainers, who were standing warily near them, finally came over to break them up. They didn't want to intrude before when the fight was so intense, afraid to get hurt. Plus, the Gamemakers found it as good entertainment. But now they were being pushed and prodded apart, and Clove gave Cato a smug look as she was thrust aside.

Caesar Flickerman. The interviewer who brought out the best of the tributes. Once your stylist dressed you in the clothing that they felt made you look your finest, you would be lined up, sitting in the comfy lounging chairs backstage, eating, drinking, or relaxing until you were called up for your interview. It was there, during your three minute expanse of time, that you could end up with the Capitol citizens wrapped around your little finger. Everything in the interview was about blowing away the crowd, whether it was with your charm, brutality, or cunning.

"We've got a real treat for you, Cato," cried out Crispinus, Cato's stylist, as he tried to squeeze between the other stylists bustling around before the interviews began. "I made this the night after the parade; you just looked so dashing in gold!"

Even though Crispinus was hyper and fickle just like the rest of the Capitol people, he had a certain distinction of _normal. _His hair was short and black, and his skin was a natural chocolate brown. He still wore odd Capitol fashions, but other than that, his face and body were untouched.

As Crispinus unwrapped the bag he was carrying around with distinctive care, Fausta, Clove's stylist, appeared from the crowd, also carrying a bag.

"This looks good," said Cato as he pulled out a golden suit that seemed to shimmer slightly as light hit its fabric. A black, collared shirt was set aside to accompany the suit jacket. "I'll go put it on now."

Clove watched him walk away into the dressing room when Fausta tapped her on the shoulder. She spun around to see her stylist holding up a dress that looked like fiery flower. The orange top of the dress was layered with sheer orange and yellow ruffles, resembling the petals of a carnation. A sash that was a shade lighter than the top was wrapped around the middle. The rest of the gown was long, covered in one layer of see through material that would twinkle with the slightest movement.

"Wow," said Clove, letting words of wonder slip off her lips. Her hand reached out and stroked the skirt of the dress. "It looks really good."

"I thought it fit your personality," replied a pleased Fausta as she led Clove into a dressing room. Clove walked in and quickly slipped into the dress. As she inspected herself in the long mirror that stood before her, she had to agree with Fausta. Despite always thinking that she was as cold as ice, the dress fit her well. It made her look more bold and passionate, almost. Smirking in this dress didn't look arrogant, it looked right.

She spun on her toes, loving the weightless skirt of the dress. Slipping a bit, firm hands steadied her from behind. Clove looked up behind her to see Cato's face.

"You look nice." stated Cato as he turned Clove to look at her dress. Cato's eyes flicked up then down, making Clove feel slightly uncomfortable. A blush crept up from her neck to her face.

"Well, you look good too," Clove answered back casually. _Two can play at this game, _she thought as her pale fingers reached up and straightened out the collar of Cato's black shirt. He looked at her hands and stared hard at Clove.

He reached out his left hand and cupped Clove's chin, moving her face from side to side.

"You might want to put on some more makeup," he said with laughter in his voice. His hand fell and Cato walked away, but not before saying, "You don't want to walk on stage looking like you have a fever." This only made Clove redden more.

"Well," asked Clove hastily as she looked at Fausta. Her stylist was looking at her quite oddly. "Should I put on more makeup?"

"No," said Fausta slowly as her eyes flickered between Clove and where Cato had gone to sit. "No, you're fine with what I already put on; your face isn't red anymore."

She left the stylist and prep team to go sit and wait for her interview, but not before hearing Fausta mumble, "You're not red now that _he's _left."

As she sat down, a silent feud went on in her head. She didn't _like _Cato. Well, actually, Cato was a perfectly likeable person to _her, _but probably only her. He was cruel and arrogant, but so was she. But she didn't _love _Cato or _feel _anything for him. Well, actually, she was drawn to his presence, his greatness. And it did make him slightly attractive. Maybe.

But she needed to push those thoughts away into the back of her mind, and probably for a very long time. Clove didn't need these feelings when she about to go into an interview that could likely gain her many sponsors and win the hearts of the Capitol. And she needed much less later, when The Hunger Games were looming over her, going to begin the next day.

But before she could ponder anything else, Clove was being shunted towards the stage by a few of the attendees backstage. She took a deep breath and walked onto the stage, her skirt rippling in the open breeze of the City Circle.

Bright lights hit her eyes and disoriented her for a little bit, she regained her vision by pretending to flutter her eyelashes at the crowd as she smiled. But she really was just blinking until she could see again.

"Clove, Clove! Please, sit down!" began Caesar Flickerman. They shook hands. Clove couldn't help but stare at his freakish blue face as he talked to her. "Now, I see that you got a ten for your training score! Very, very good!"

"Yes, thank you." said Clove as her mind flashbacked to her throwing a flurry of knives on to a few dozen dummies. Hitting each one right on the bull's eye.

"Now, you're District partner is Cato, and he is a _very _monstrous boy. What exactly are your thoughts on him?"

"Well…" started Clove as she turned to face the passage backstage, only to find Cato leaning against the wall and raising an eyebrow. Waiting for an answer. "I can tell you that he's not as monstrous as you think he is."

"Oho!" cried Caesar as the crowd hooted in curiosity as to why Cato was not so monstrous. "And why would that be? He seems very scary to me. Perhaps he's taken a liking to you, if he doesn't seem monstrous!"

The crowd cheered loudly as they waited for Clove, who had turned a bright shade of pink, to respond.

"No, not at all." replied Clove, bringing up a smirk on her face. "He's not monstrous to me because I beat him in the Training Center."

Everyone person in the City Circle must have gasped, and then they started cheering because they loved the striking personality of Clove. They loved her fire and confidence.

After a few basic questions to which Clove wittily responded, the buzzer went off, leaving the crowd loudly moaning in disappointment as Clove moved backstage, giving everyone one last wave.

"'Not so monstrous because I beat him in the Training Center', huh?" questioned Cato as he joined her on the couch on which she had sat. "Did you really need to make me look weak?"

"I didn't make you look weak," said Clove scornfully. "I just needed to make conversation."

"Yes, conversation about how you took down a 6 foot 3 boy who had a really good rep before you said that a 5 foot 5, petite girl took me down."

"I laughed after I said it. They probably think I'm kidding."

"You better hope they are. Hopefully they were distracted enough by how shimmery you were when you were up there."

"Did you think I was pretty?" cooed Clove as she batted her fake eyelashes.

Cato stared at her. She stared back.

They broke into bounds of laughter as the nerves and tension got to them. Other tributes were staring at them, not knowing whether to be afraid or annoyed.

All in all, it was a good night to have before being gathered into an arena to kill of 23 other people.

_end _**THE TRAINING CENTER: DAY 2 + THE TRAINING SCORES/INTERVIEW**


	9. Chapter 9

**THE GAMES**

Each Tribute stood tensely at their designated metal plate, awaiting the countdown to finish and for the gong to sound. Clove's feet shuffled on her plate, anticipating the signal to start. She was edgy as she felt spasms of excitement rush through her body. Or perhaps it was anxiety. Either way, she just wanted to get started.

The Cornucopia stood before them, near a gigantic lake that shone sparkly and clear. At the mouth of the Cornucopia was an abundance of supplies. Food, weapons, backpacks full of sleeping bags or first aid kits. Near Clove's feet stood a loaf of bread and a cheap, plastic flashlight. Seeing as she slightly far away from the Cornucopia, the supplies that were near her weren't as useful as the ones at the mouth of the giant, golden horn. But she could run. Petite and quick, she could reach the area where the provisions were plenty, and hopefully get some knives, because with her knives, Clove would be unstoppable.

"5, 4, 3, 2…" bellowed the automated voice. Its metallic sound cut through the silence of the Tributes, and once it finished its countdown, the gong rang.

It was chaos.

A few of the Tributes ran for the forest immediately, only grabbing small rations on the way there. Others ran straight for the Cornucopia, hoping to outrun everyone else in an attempt to get the best of the bounty at the horn. Clove darted out as soon as the gong sounded; her muscles relaxed as she finally let loose all of the bundled energy that she kept inside when she was on her metal plate. As her first priority, she ran over to Cato as quickly as she could, seeing as he was already at the mouth of the Cornucopia, slashing away at Tributes like he did the dummies at the Training Center. Bodies fell all around him and Clove tore through the pandemonium right into the Cornucopia, hastily locating her precious knives.

Once she got a hold of them, she didn't waste a second in killing. Her arms sliced through the air, sending her knives into the backs and throats of her adversaries. She relished the sensation of accomplishment each time her knives found their mark. In the corner of her eye, she saw Katniss Everdeen shuffling around confusedly until she spotted a backpack to take. Another boy tried taking the same backpack and they grappled over it for a minute before Clove threw a knife at the boy, which cut right into the back of his neck. While he spewed blood onto Katniss Everdeen's face, Clove chose a serrated, long blade and hurled it at the girl's back, only for it to be lodged into the back of Katniss's bag which she instinctively hitched up right before the blade could hit her.

Flushed with rage at the fact that Katniss had gotten away, Clove swung around, viciously lobbing knives at the few who were left in the arena. Soon, all who were left were the Careers; the others either dead or hidden in the thick forest that took up half of the giant arena they were placed in.

"We need to move out for a bit," commanded Cato, his clothing already splattered with the blood of his victims. "The hovercrafts are going to move in to collect the bodies and we'd better get out of the way."

They collected anything they deemed important off the bodies and the ground. As the Careers collected themselves in the Cornucopia, the high, clear whistle of a Mockingjay was heard, and soon a few hovercrafts materialized from the sky, a robot arm of a sort reaching down and collecting the bodies. When the Capitol finished its cleanup of the dead, Cato, Clove, Marvel, and Glimmer left the opening of the Cornucopia and arranged all of the supplies neatly, putting everything in crates and bags and stacking them up in a pyramid after taking an inventory of what they had.

"What now?" asked Marvel, who was from District One, tall, and good with the spear. His partner, Glimmer, was blonde and beautiful, but really only good with the hatchet.

"We should wait until nightfall to go hunt down anyone else," replied Clove as she cleaned her knives with a towel from the rucksack she grabbed. "Unless two of you will stay here and have two of us go out and hunt. Either way, we need to watch our supplies. We don't have any way of protecting it yet."

"I say we should just go and hunt, the faster we kill, the better. Besides, no one's going to touch our stuff, they know we can kill them in two seconds flat!" argued Glimmer.

"No." said Cato, sheathing his sword. "Clove's right. We can go and track a few down, but someone needs to stay here until then."

"Then let her stay!" said Glimmer, her eyes flashing as she glared at Clove. "If she's so insistent on guarding our supplies, she should be the one guarding them."

As Clove began to protest, Cato interrupted and said in a sharp voice, "She's coming with us. She's the quietest and can sneak up on the Tributes if we need her to. Or she could just throw her knives, too. Marvel, you can stay here for now."

Marvel's face twitched with disapproval, but he didn't complain as Cato glared down at him.

Soon, they were searching for the other Tributes to kill off deep inside the forest. It was slightly unsettling for them, because Districts One and Two didn't have much greenery. District One mainly consisted of tall, glassy buildings. District Two was more of a barren wasteland only accompanied by cruel looking buildings and one or two high-tech facilities for training. But other than that, the thick green trees, smell of pine, and chattering animals was mostly unfamiliar to them.

They had found an older boy hidden in the forest after an hour or two of searching, and Cato immediately swung his sword, cutting the boy's head clean off. A cannon went off.

"Nice job," praised Clove as she kicked the head away from her feet. "That was pretty clean cut."

"Yeah, well, his neck had the thickness of a twig," said Cato as he wiped the blood on his sword off on the dead boy's clothing. "Wouldn't take much to cut his head off. You could have probably done it with your little knives if you wanted to."

Glimmer snorted and Clove narrowed her eyes, her fingers on the handle of a cruel dagger that was unevenly serrated. Quickly pulling out the knife, she shoved Cato against a tree, his body crashing loudly against the rigid trunk of the tree.

With the cold and sharp blade against his throat, Cato glared at Clove, not daring to move with the knife so close to his neck.

"You think that I can't do anything," said Clove softly as she took pleasure at the sight of her District partner wriggling under her dagger cautiously. "But I've already told you that I can kill you in second. I've told you that a lot of times."

She moved off of Cato and placed her knife back inside her jacket. Cato glared at her as Clove said, "Let's move out. The hovercraft will be here in no time."

As she walked ahead of her group, Cato jogged up until he was next to her, looking angry while he insisted,

"You can't jump me in the middle of the Games. I don't _care _if anyone makes you seem weak at the moment because we can't afford to be distracted. If you keep doing this, someone might just attack us from behind!"

"Fine," agreed Clove, silently seething. "As long as you don't _insult _me all the time. It's like you want me to fight you!"

"I don't want you to fight me; you know I could kill you with a blindfold on—".

A rustle made both of them freeze in their tracks and pull out their weapons. Glimmer, who was behind them looked back and forth frantically.

"What is it?" she hissed as they all heard another rustle and crack of a fallen branch.

"Someone's here…" muttered Cato as they silently moved towards the source of sound.

And as they pushed aside a curtain of moss that hung down from the branch of an aged tree, they found the most pleasant surprise in the Games so far.

Peeta Mellark stood before them, dirty, injured, and frozen in shock.

**end THE GAMES **


	10. Chapter 10

**A DISTURBING THOUGHT**

"Well, well…" said Cato roguishly, unsheathing his sword. Peeta's eyes widened more as he back away slowly from the three of them. "Look what we have here. Little lover boy..."

"Please…" uttered Peeta, his hands up in an act of defenselessness. "I don't want to fight…I'm just—"

"Save it!" said Cato. Peeta started to speak again, but Cato struck him across the face, leaving him stumbling backwards. "Where's your girlfriend, huh? Is she with you? Or is she dead already?"

At the thought of Katniss already being dead, Peeta's face paled slightly before saying,

"She's not dead. I know she's not."

"How would you know?" taunted Glimmer. "We could've killed her ourselves."

Peeta made to get up but Cato raised his sword, pointing the tip of the blade at Peeta's chest.

"What should we do with lover boy, then?" asked Clove, her eyes twinkling with malevolence as she glared down at the District Twelve boy. "He got an eight for his Training Score. Maybe we should just kill him now."

Cato looked intently at Peeta, cocking his head to the side as he tried to come to a decision.

"I can help you," said Peeta hurriedly. His powder blue eyes were hard with determination. "I'm good with the knife—"

Clove snorted.

"I'm good with the knife and I can help you find _her_!"

Cato's head shot up at this statement, glaring at Peeta. He was already scratched up pretty bad…there were cuts and bruises on his face. Plus, with Cato's last punch, he was already beginning to sport a black eye. He was strong…Cato remembered when Peeta was at the hand-to-hand combat station, he was exceptionally good. And he could help find Katniss Everdeen…their main target. The girl who scored higher than they did with the Training Scores.

"Fine," said Cato in a hard voice. "You're coming with us. But you do everything we say. And you're coming with us wherever you go. Try and attack us? We'll kill you without even thinking about it."

Peeta nodded stiffly and got up, only to have Clove and Glimmer on both sides of him, their weapons out and pressed against his back.

"Go on," sneered Glimmer, prodding him with her silver bow.

As they returned to camp, Marvel jumped up at the sight of Peeta in their group. Spear in hand, he said confusedly, "What's he doing here? Is the District Twelve girl anywhere near?"

"No, he's with us. Found him in the middle of the forest, sniveling behind a tree." said Cato with a smirk. He shoved Peeta over to their campsite. "Go on and sit over there. We'll deal with you after we eat."

Glimmer and Marvel walked away to rummage through their belongings at the pyramid of supplies. Clove walked over and sat on the ground next to Cato. The sun already began to droop down, painting the sky orange and pink. Whether it was the actual sun or something manufactured by the Capitol, Clove didn't know.

"So we've killed about eleven or twelve people at the bloodbath," said Clove for the sake of conversation. "Now we've got lover boy…plus the four of us. So we've just got seven people to kill before it actually comes down to us…"

"Sounds like we've made good time, then," laughed Cato cruelly as he took out an apple and a packet of dried beef strips. "We kill off seven more weaklings and then we're down to us. We either break up the group or just go at each other."

"Marvel and Glimmer are weak," snorted Clove. "They can use a couple of weapons well, but they're dead stupid."

"Glimmer's alright."

"She's pretty, sure. But she can't use a weapon to save her life."

"She can use a hatchet."

"Yeah, but we don't have a hatchet."

"Well, it's nice to have her around. She makes sure that my eyes don't get too sore when I look at everyone's ugly dead bodies."

Cato laughed at his little joke and took a bite of his apple, teeth breaking the shiny, red skin of the fruit. Clove stared irritably at Cato and his snobbish comment.

"She'll end up dead in the end. I could kill her right now if I wanted to."

"We could kill both of them right now if we wanted to. But we need them around for lookouts and stuff. I know it's going to end up as the both of us in the end, but for right now there's four of us and lover boy. I'm not thinking about the end result right now."

"The two of us," whispered Clove as she stared off into the crimson sky and the sinking sun. The two of them, in the end. It was inevitable. They were the strongest. It would be Clove and her knives against Cato and his sword. Who would end up Victor? Who would end up dead? Clove's stomach dropped as she thought about it, her heart overcome with a sudden wave of emotion. She didn't know what she was feeling or why she was feeling it. It wasn't news to her that she would end up having to kill Cato or be killed by him. But thinking about it…

"You're right," she murmured as she lay down on the cool grass and stretched her arms behind her. The orange sky was turning to black and the laughter of Marvel and Glimmer sounded far off near the lake. Her mind was still swimming with the thought of it just being the two of them by the end of the Games. "Let's not think about the end result right now."

_end _** A DISTURBING THOUGHT**


	11. Chapter 11

**UNDERNEATH THE GIRL ON FIRE**

The dark sky bled through the sunset, expelling any trace of orange and pink to black. Cato sharpened his sword, Clove gathered her knives, Marvel picked out a completely metal spear, and Glimmer brought along the silver bow and arrows. It was time to hunt. Of course, Peeta would come along. Wouldn't want to lose such a precious guide. With sparks flying from the matches, Marvel lit a torch and they headed into the forest. They would weed out the weaklings tonight. Get rid of the worthless ones so they could find their real enemies.

"Do you have the glasses?" Cato asked Clove before they went into the woods. She nodded, pulling two pairs of black, shiny sunglasses from inside her jacket. But these weren't for the sun. Instead, with these on, one could see clearly in the dark, and up to fifty feet away. Luckily for the Careers, two pairs of these special glasses were in the Cornucopia. One for Cato, one for Clove.

With everyone's muscular physique, walking quietly was slightly difficult. Peeta wasn't exactly lightweight either. Fallen, dead leaves and twigs didn't mix well with their heavy boots. But being quiet didn't matter that much. They knew that if anyone came running, _they_ would end up as the victim, not the Careers.

After a few hours of searching, they still had not found a single tribute. Marvel and Glimmer had begun to make impatient sounds and remarks after one or two hours of searching. Peeta stayed ceaselessly silent, seldom speaking and only looking grim. Cato and Clove on the other hand, were patient. They knew they couldn't win the Games in a matter of days, much less one day.

Even the District Two Tributes were peeved after four or five hours, though. How could the other Tributes be this good at hiding? They were either exceptionally skilled at concealing themselves or they were extremely lucky. At every whisper of a movement or rustle of the leaves, Clove's arm would cut through the air, sending an imperceptibly fast knife towards the direction of the sound. However, no one would ever be there. It was always either just the wind or an animal.

As she pulled a knife out of the rabbit that had made the innocent mistake of flitting between bushes, Clove said,

"How is it possible that we haven't found anyone yet?"

After a few spasms, the rabbit lay still. She made a disgusted face at the pathetic rabbit and cleaned her bloody knife.

"We'll find someone soon. Eventually someone stupid will—" Cato immediately stopped talking. His head whipped around, sniffing the air not unlike a dog. The scent of a burning fire. A plume of grey smoke curling up in the air. Someone was near, lighting a fire in the dark of the night.

Everybody's eager footsteps soon turned into a stampede, their heavy footfalls pounding against the ground. Closer and closer they got to the source of the fire, until they came upon a small campfire and a fair haired girl sitting by it, dozed off. She jerked awake at the sound of the Careers. It was too late. They encircled her before she could even consider leaving.

Clove's blade had already cut the girl's throat open into a sinister, red smile before she could move. Enthusiastic hoots came from the others, and Cato gave her a congratulatory shake of her shoulder. She smiled smugly, satisfied at finally finding a Tribute to kill…happy that she had human blood on her hands. Peeta, standing in the back and almost concealed in the trees and growth, had a look of repulsion on his face.

"Twelve down and eleven to go!" Marvel cried out gleefully. Everyone laughed as they began scouring the ground, looking for anything useful on the girl's person.

"She's got nothing on her," said Glimmer unappreciatively, kicking the girl's backpack around in the dirt. "All she's got is a pair of socks. Humph."

"Whatever, it's still another Tribute down," responded Marvel. He nudged the girl's head with the tip of his boot, as if she were vermin he didn't want to touch. "And an ugly one, too. No one will cry about this girl."

Another round of laughter from the Careers.

"Better clear out so they can get the body before it starts stinking," said Cato arrogantly. Clove snorted and wiped off her blood covered knife on the dead girl's shirt. They backed away from the body and Cato shoved Peeta along with the butt of his sword. Before they got more than a hundred yards away, Clove came to a realization.

"Shouldn't we have heard a cannon by now?" she asked suspiciously. The others raised their eyebrows, and looked at each other.

"I'd say yes," replied Cato. He looked towards the thick plants they'd just cut through, where the dead body lay. "Nothing to prevent them from going in immediately."

"Unless she isn't dead," said Glimmer accusingly, glaring at Clove. She sneered back. Was it possible that she didn't cut the girl deep enough? Didn't hit anything vital? No…she never missed.

"She's dead. I stuck her myself," retorted Clove forcefully. She turned her back on everyone, crossing her arms in agitation.

Glimmer pursed her lips, standing with a hand on her hips.

"Then where's the cannon?"

"Someone should go back. Make sure the job's done," said Marvel.

"Yeah, we don't want to have to track her down twice."

"I said she's dead!" barked Clove irritably.

Suddenly, Peeta burst into the group, shoving Marvel and Glimmer aside. He looked petulant as he shouted,

"We're wasting time! I'll go finish her and let's move on!"

All of them stare at Peeta in astonishment. It might have been that he hadn't spoken since they captured them. Or it was that Peeta was offering to 'finish' someone at all. Either way, their surprise distracted them from a loud rasping sound. Fabric and a body against tree bark.

Up above them, belted into a tree, was Katniss Everdeen. She hung upside down from a branch high on the tree, with her face contorted into a look of utter shock. Muscles straining as she hung there, a wave of confusion and betrayal washed over her. Peeta, her so-called star crossed lover, her boy with the bread, was working with the Careers.

_end _**UNDERNEATH THE GIRL ON FIRE**


	12. Chapter 12

**THE AGREEMENT**

"Go on, then, Lover Boy," sneered Cato. "See for yourself."

Peeta glared at him, snatching the torch out of Marvel's hands. As he walked through the hanging moss and thick trees, the Careers turned to each other, speaking in hushed voices.

"Why don't we just kill him now and get it over with?" whispered Clove.

"Let him tag along. What's the harm?" replied Marvel under his breath. "And he's handy with that knife."

Clove's hand curled tightly into a fist. _Did he really just say that? _she thought angrily. _I'm better with the knife than all of them combined. I could kill everyone in this arena. And we're keeping lover boy because he's 'handy with that knife'?_

"Besides," interjected Glimmer. "He's our best chance of finding her."

"Why? You think she bought into that sappy romance stuff?"

"She might have. Seemed pretty simpleminded to me," laughed Cato quietly. "Every time I think about her spinning around in that dress, I want to puke."

"Wish we knew how she got that eleven."

"Bet you lover boy knows."

They heard heavy footsteps coming in their direction, and then the light of a torch. Peeta emerged, the injuries they gave him exaggerated in the torch's fire.

"Was she dead?" asked Cato snidely.

"No. But she is now," said Peeta dismissively. A cannon fired. "Ready to move on?"

Everyone glowered at him and nodded. While they all made their way through the forest, dawn arrived with the chatter of animals. Birdsong filled the air.

"Should we go back to camp?" Cato inquired. "Or should we keep on hunting?"

Glimmer glanced at Marvel, who shrugged and nodded. She nodded back to him, and said,

"Marvel and I think we should keep on hunting. A few Tributes might come out now that it's morning."

Clove, who was standing behind the District One Tributes and Peeta, sighed. They needed to go back to camp and rest a little bit. They'd been up for the whole day, without sleep. All of them had dark circles under their eyes already, and their pace was slowing down. But both Marvel and Glimmer said they wanted to go on. And Peeta had no say in what they did. Most likely, the majority would prevail.

That's why it surprised her when Cato looked straight at her with his cold blue eyes, eyebrows raised as if to say '_Well? What do you think?' _

She gave him a tiny shake of the head, and he nodded.

Cato ran a hand through his wheat golden locks and addressed the group,

"We're going back to camp." Marvel and Glimmer, surprised at this commanding decision, began to protest, but Cato silenced them. "No. We're going back to camp."

"But why?" argued Glimmer, her pink lips sticking out in a pout. "We all want to hunt!"

"_I said no!_" shouted Cato angrily, hand flying to the handle of his sword. Glimmer jumped and scrambled backwards. "We're going back to camp. Now."

As they all made their way back to the Cornucopia, Clove felt slightly pleased. Obviously Cato placed her opinion over those of the others. Plus, it was fun seeing Glimmer and Marvel squirm uncomfortable under Cato's authority.

"We all need some rest," said Clove once they reached their campsite. "After we all get a little sleep we can go track more Tributes."

"I'll keep watch," offered Cato. Everyone else was too tired to volunteer. They each found a sleeping bag inside the Cornucopia, where they had all their supplies stacked up.

Marvel and Glimmer fell asleep immediately. They were not used to the amount of hours they had stayed awake during the hunting. Both of them were probably used to returning to the soft, comforting beds back in their homes. Peeta also fell asleep without trouble, his sleeping bag placed farther away from the others. Clove, on the other hand, had days of training where she didn't sleep for days. One day of not sleeping wasn't too bad. Tiring, but not too bad.

Actually, she couldn't fall asleep at all. Clove lay in her sleeping bag, sweating now that the sun was up and the sleeping bag was reflecting her body heat. She unzipped it and crawled out onto the hard soil of the ground.

"Do you want to sleep? I can take watch instead." Clove asked Cato quietly. He shook his head, and took an apple and knife out of his backpack.

"I don't feel like sleeping," he replied. He started paring his apple, the sharp blade of the knife cutting away the bright red skin of the fruit. "It's like my body's tired, but my mind isn't. Either way, you should just go get some sleep."

"I can't sleep. I've got the same mindset as you do. I just can't stop thinking."

Cato cut away at the seeds in the apple, letting them fall to the ground as they sat together in a moment of silence.

"That was impressive, back there," said Clove in a teasing voice. "Yelling at everyone. Making us come back to camp. Listening to me."

He laughed. A real laugh, one that wasn't cruel or empty.

"Well, I trust your judgment over theirs. They might've trained back in their District, but I bet all they really did was buy fabrics and watch out for the Capitol's latest fashions," jested Cato. "We actually worked hard in District Two."

"That's good to know. I trust you over them too, now that you bring it up. I'd rather just have you with me instead of having just the two of them. They're idiots."

They both laughed, knowing that all they said was true. Why would Clove want two Tributes, who despite their training were frivolous and incompetent? Why would she want them when she could have Cato, who was powerful and dominating?

"I think I might sleep now, actually," said Clove with a sigh. Cato gave one last, quiet laugh as she walked away. Laying on the ground with her sleeping bag now folded into a makeshift pillow, she slowly drifted into a slumber.

When she woke, perhaps five or six hours later, she found Cato asleep on top of his sleeping bag, which lay almost right next to her. Peeta was keeping watch now, so Clove figured after three hours Cato decided to rest and wake him up.

Clove turned onto her side, propping up her elbow and resting her face on her hand. Cato, despite being asleep, still had his hand curled tightly around the handle of his sword. She smiled sleepily to herself, thinking that it was completely in his character to be on guard even when he wasn't conscious.

After a half hour or so, Clove got up and stretched, waking up her body. She walked over to where Peeta Mellark sat.

"I'll take watch now," she commanded harshly. Peeta glowered at Clove, both fear and defiance showing in his gaze.

"Okay," muttered Peeta, getting up and walking back over to where the others lay asleep.

Clove kept watch for a few hours, maybe four or five. Soon, the sun began to set. She went over and woke everyone up. They would be looking for Tributes after nightfall. Everybody ate some food, and ran a few laps around the lake to wake themselves up.

"So," said Marvel after they all finished. "Glimmer and I were wondering…we forgot to have someone watch our stuff last night when we hunted. So tonight, we figured we should remember to do that. Why don't we just have Clove stay here and guard our supplies and the rest of us go out and hunt? We can leave lover boy here too."

Shocked at this proclamation from Marvel, Clove stomped over to him, shoving him hard. He fell to the ground, a look of surprise on his face.

"You think I'm the _weak _one, don't you?" hissed Clove furiously. Marvel tried getting back up but she pushed him back into the ground with her foot, the hard sole of the boot grinding against his chest. "You two just want me to stay here with that weak District Twelve boy and do nothing! Let's see how many Tributes you kill without me!"

She reached for the knives inside her jacket, but a thick arm snaked around her stomach and she was lifted into the air. Carrying Clove in a fireman's hold, he moved her away from Marvel. Clove twisted around and beat her fists against Cato's back, swearing angrily.

Once he put her down, she tried to strike Marvel but was held back by Cato once again.

"Get her away from me," Marvel said with contempt as he scuttled backwards. "She's crazy!"

"Shut up," said Cato simply but powerfully. "You're right; we did forget to have someone stay back last night. You two can go into the forest and hunt tonight. Clove and I will stay back here and watch our supplies and Peeta."

"But what if they are mutts…" began Glimmer, her face anxious. Peeta didn't exactly look joyful with the arrangements either.

"Are you saying that you two are so _weak _that you can't even go into the forest without me?" demanded Cato.

The two fell silent and Clove smirked arrogantly.

"Fine," spat Marvel. "We'll go ourselves."

Once the pair got their backpacks and weapons, they lit a torch and entered the forest.

"Why did you let them go off by themselves? Shouldn't it have been us hunting and them staying back?" asked Clove confusedly.

"They won't find anyone," insinuated Cato. "I just needed them out of the way. They were getting on my nerves. Glimmer can't even run a lap without complaining and Marvel was being picky when we were eating."

"Yeah," snorted Clove. "I saw him rifling through all our bags just so he could find something he liked."

The two of them circled their campsite, looking for Tributes or any predators. Cato kept Peeta by his side no matter what. Marvel and Glimmer were gone for hours. Cato and Clove had time to exercise, spar with each other, and take an inventory of their supplies. Twice.

A while after the two of them decided that one of them should sleep while the other took watch over the supplies and Peeta, the sun broke over the horizon, staining the sky with pinks and oranges. The District One Tributes still hadn't come back. Clove didn't know whether to be worried or relieved.

All of the sudden, she heard feet pounding against the ground, and frantic cries of panic. Marvel and Glimmer dashed out of the forest, shoving Clove and Peeta, who both stood up in anticipation, aside. She turned towards the direction they came out of and saw what they were running from.

Overwhelming and chaotic, tendrils of flame licked the top of the highest pine trees, eating the forest up as quickly as it could. Smoke clouded the sky, making it look like a storm was coming to.

Fire. And it was one that could only have been induced by the machines of the Capitol.

_end _**THE AGREEMENT**


	13. Chapter 13

**A FLAMING PRESENT FROM THE CAPITOL**

Clove turned and ran as fast as she could, pulling the neck of her shirt over her mouth as the noxious black haze surrounded the Cornucopia at an alarming speed. As her feet pummeled against the ground she saw Cato up ahead just noticing the fire. Eyes wide and mouth agape, he quickly snatched his backpack and dashed across to the forest opposite the one the fire was destroying. Running as fast as Clove could, she caught up with him. She could hear Peeta trying to run along but with the uneven steps she was hearing, he was lagging behind with his limping gait.

The blazing inferno was closing in quick, already skirting across the field where the Cornucopia lay. Flaming trails dominated the place, chasing them right into the forest. Not only that, but balls of fire shot down from some unseen place, all of them directed at Cato, Clove, and Peeta.

"They're aiming at us!" shouted Cato as they one fireball burst into the ground beside him. The side of the forest they had run into was already ablaze, trees falling and animals screaming as the flames ate away at them. They jumped over the burning branches that fell to the ground, ran through the smoldering branches, and inhaled the toxic smoke of the fire.

Clove was getting lightheaded and watery eyed, the smog was too thick to clearly see through, and despite covering her mouth with her shirt, she was still inhaling the smoke. She was drenched in sweat and exhausted, her sprint slowing down to a jog. Everything was in chaos, it seemed like everything around her was dying, including herself.

She took a moment to stop, and that was Clove's mistake. A fireball rocketed towards her, aflame and fast. She turned around, saw the flames shooting directly at her, and gave a piercing shriek. Blazing arms writhed out of the inferno ball; she could hear the crackling and popping of it as it almost reached her.

Fire and sparks. Inconceivable heat. Tendrils of fire reaching towards her, eager to grasp her in an embrace and burn Clove to death.

Feeling her body lurching backwards, the blast of fire smashed into the ground where she had just stood, clearing a hole that was alarmingly deep. Cato stood behind her, hand grasping her wrist tightly. Another fireball shot down at her, and again Cato yanked her out of the way.

"Clove, come on!" he screamed as the air rapidly began to fill with the apple sized balls of the fire, like some bizarre interpretation of shooting stars. They ran faster now, despite their fatigue. Hand in hand, they stumbled through the forest to the best of their navigation. Cato and Clove ran until their legs gave out, both of them faltering in their run before they tumbled down.

But the Capitol's attack had stopped by then. Both of them just kept running despite that. Fear was in their systems, controlling their instincts. They didn't what else to do and _couldn't_ do anything else except run.

They laid on the ground, breathing heavily. Every part of Clove's body ached. Her head, her legs, her lungs. Oh, her lungs. They felt like they were being baked right inside her chest, with every breath making pain shoot through Clove's chest. Every rattling cough hurt like hell, and it was like she could feel the ash settling in her lungs. Clove coughed until she started to retch over a bush, her vomit coming out stained and dark. Once it was all out of her stomach, she collapsed onto the ground, taking large, wheezing breaths.

Cato sat beside her, chugging his water bottle with no consideration of saving it. Soot blotted their skin, and the smoke that didn't disappear with the fire stood out more now that the sun had risen to its full height. The lingering heat of the fire and the new heat of the sun were unbearable. They took off their jackets and rolled up their pant legs. Swirls of smoke looked mistakenly innocent as the sun shone through them, making the arena look majestic.

For a while, that's all they did. Laid on the ground in silence. Trying to relax their tense muscles and rid their bodies of the burning feeling in their lungs. Eventually, the two of them fell asleep, exhaustion taking over.

Hours later, the sound of nearby footsteps and chatter woke them up. To Cato's delight, Marvel and Glimmer had made it out alive and wandered right into where they made camp. And even better, they had not lost their District Twelve boy. Apparently, the two of them found him passed out near a stream, and bullied him to consciousness.

"Alright, this is good. A lot better than I imagined after the fire. I thought the two of you and lover boy were dead. Let's head back to the Cornucopia, make camp and rest for a bit, then we'll get back to hunting."

They agreed and gathered their things. Peeta stood farther into the forest, distancing himself from everyone else. He was still battered from the fire and drowsy from his unconsciousness.

Clove glared at him from where she sat on the ground, collecting her possessions. His very presence always peeved her. So weak, so submissive once you brought up Katniss Everdeen… How could she ever stand Peeta Mellark when the dominating, vigorous Cato was with her? _He _would never become weak and obedient at the mention of her name.

Although, why was Clove thinking like that? Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen were lovers. Stupid, star crossed lovers. Cato and Clove were nothing like that… They were cohorts, partners. They supported each other, they were strong together. They weren't…lovers.

The very idea made her burn red with embarrassment. What kind of thought was that? Lovers? As if that would ever happen. They were in an arena trying to kill 22 people off. In the end, they would be trying to kill _each other _off. Although Cato _did _save her life a few times back there during the fire...that wasn't like him, was it? Maybe it meant something… No. It just _wasn't _something to consider. Actually, even if they weren't in the arena, it wouldn't be something to consider. Cato didn't consider girls on skill. Sure, it was a nice thing to have. But despite his own power, he was one that fell completely for appearance. It was probably the only reason he kept Glimmer around. Clove knew the way Cato would leer at her when they sat around, relaxing. It made her angry; it made her stomach boil with spite. She never really considered why…

"Alright, let's go," Cato said. Everyone nodded their heads, their cheeks still covered in the soot that was so insistent on clinging to their skin. They were still inconvenienced from the fire's side effects despite their rest; everyone still had ash coating the insides of their lungs and they were still sore from running away from the rampant blaze. Hopefully, the Gamemakers would take some pity on them and save the muttation animals for later.

They trekked through the forest for a long time. Clove didn't realize how far she had run with Cato. Her legs seemed so stunted when the tongues of flame were licking at her ankles. To her, it seemed like they had barely run a mile from the Cornucopia.

Once the Careers reached their campsite, they saw the overall wreckage of the place. The grass was burned off the ground, leaving uneven clumps of green on the now blackened range. Miraculously, the Cornucopia seemed to remain untouched, still glistening and golden in the sunlight. Perhaps the Capitol didn't want to hurt such a magnificent creation of theirs.

If that was so, Clove wasn't complaining. Their supplies were safe, which meant they were too. Everyone rummaged through the giant golden horn, checking that everything was in place, while Peeta sat on a rock nearby, looking sullen. Luckily, only a handful of things were picked off of their stash. Although everyone else sighed in relief, Cato stood rigid, a muscle in his cheek jumping.

"What?" asked Clove, eyeing him apprehensively. "This is _good. _We've still got the bulk of our supplies."

"What if they took something important?" he retorted in a strained voice. Cato pronounced his words slowly, and clipped, as if it hurt to speak. "We're just taking an inventory on what we remember. What they took might end up letting them win."

Clove was just happy that they got out of the fire alive and still had a bounty waiting for them. She could appreciate these things, while Cato took every fault towards their chances of winning personally.

"Don't be so cold," she said shortly. "So what if we lost a few things? We could win without the supplies if we wanted to. What happened to your confidence? I remember when you thought we could run through everyone with my knives and your sword and we'd just be left with the two of us. Now you're getting bothered by every little thing that hurts our chances. What? Is it that District Twelve girl you're worried about? Because she got an eleven in training and we haven't found her yet?"

Cato turned sharply and faced her with a look of utter infuriation. Cobalt eyes on fire and handsome features twisted into something animalistic.

"_Shut up! You shut up,_" snarled Cato. "You don't know! You _don't! _What if _she _wins? What if she took that stuff and knows how to use it _better _than we do? She messed up my odds, Clove! She just came in here with her score of eleven and her stupid survival skills, and you know what? _We haven't found her yet! _So just stop, Clove! Just _stop, _okay? Don't make me— don't make me regret saving you!"

Clove stood before him, stiff and pale as her whole body shook with fury. She could barely form words as she tried to contain herself.

"Then why _did _you?" spat Clove bitterly. Anger rose in her being, loathing words forming in her throat. Rage was like vomit, once you started you couldn't stop, you couldn't stop being angry or stop whatever came out from coming out. And in the end all you were left with was a sour feeling and pain. "Why? I've always questioned why you favored me over the others. I know I'm from your District and I can throw knives, but what's it matter? If you think you've got such bad chances here, why not just kill us all now and go off by yourself? Huh? Maybe you'll get better chances then. Who knows? The only thing I know is that you're bitter and angry and hateful and you hate it when things don't go perfectly. The only thing _you _about me is that I can throw knives nice! Why did you save me, Cato? Why?"

She spoke the last word with such pain and resentment that it almost seemed like Clove choked it out. Everyone had fallen silent. Marvel, Glimmer, and even Peeta seemed to be listening.

Cato glared at her agonizingly, with true, desperate confusion gleaming in his eyes, before finally saying,

"I…I don't know."

_**end **_**A FLAMING PRESENT FROM THE CAPITOL**


	14. Chapter 14

Clove's lavender eyes lost their ferocity for a moment, the hardness of her stare melting into something defenseless and foreign. His words, spoken so softly but with what sounded like the most strenuous desperation took her off guard. What did he mean? What was he trying to say?

"You saved me because…because we're team mates. That's why!" spat Clove before stalking off in the opposite direction. She felt angry with blood pounding in her head and her thoughts not forming clearly. But Clove also felt like her stomach had dropped through the ground, her hands shaking.

_Angry. That's what he always is. Never complacent, never satisfied, _thought Clove as she tried taking deep, rattling breaths to calm herself. _He's never happy unless everything is perfect. Unless the odds are completely in his favor. _

She picked up her backpack from the ground and continued to walk away from the rest of them, moving towards the forest.

"I'll be back when it's the afternoon," called out Clove irritably as she disappeared into the greenery.

Once she was deep into the forest, she found herself a tree that was decently high, and began climbing it. Clove stopped after she chose a branch that seemed sturdy enough for her, and hoisted her body onto it. Sitting with her back against the trunk of the tree, Clove rustled through the array of knives inside her jacket, choosing a small, almost needle like knife.

Leaning against the tree with one leg dangling off the branch, she waited.

Back in District Two, whenever she was angry, stressed, or just tired of everything around her, Clove would escape to a tiny watchtower near the training facility. It was abandoned for lack of use and usually empty. Sometimes she would just sit there and think. Other times she threw knives from the window at the dummies set up outside for the others.

Today, with no watchtower, she climbed a tree. With no dummies, she had living animals. For the most part, Clove rested, closing her eyes and listening to nothing in particular. But with the smallest scurry of feet or clawing of paws, her eyes would flicker open and her throwing arm slash down.

Soon the ground was unceremoniously littered with dead animals, knives protruding somewhere on their bodies. Clove's mind was as littered as the ground, thoughts clumping together and making her wonder things she hadn't wondered before.

Why did she care about anything Cato said…or felt? They were teammates in The Hunger Games. The only thing that mattered was that they could fight and kill people together whenever the opportunity was present. Marvel and Glimmer never said anything to him when they ordered him around. They didn't show any evidence of caring or the need to argue. So why did she? Why did Clove have to contradict him and at times, comfort him?

Why couldn't she just leave him alone?

Clove remembered being back at the Capitol. Only having to dance around for the citizens in a nice dress and tell them how much she loved the city. How could it have only been a few days ago? It felt like years. And being back in District Two? That felt like eons ago. Eons ago when she had food and friends and a bed to sleep in.

_Meeting Cato for the first time was a distant memory. It wasn't even that long ago. Maybe it was one year before? Clove was fifteen. She had just received her first dinner invitation to the Mayor's home, after her mother finally allowed her to show off her throwing skills at the training facility. Her mother was insistent on keeping her skill a secret beforehand. _

_ Her mother was absolutely ecstatic, giving Clove was seemed like a compliment ("Finally, you've done something useful for once in your life,") before whisking her off to buy a new dress for the occasion. Once they actually arrived at the large mansion where the Mayor lived, Clove was in a strapless dress the color of blood, with her curled onyx hair piled elegantly upon her head. _

_ In other words, she looked nothing like herself. _

_ Once they were inside, it was all cheery introductions. Clove's eyes flicked about the spacious room. She eyed the large golden chandelier, the tall and winding stairs, and the polished white floors that gleamed in the light. Clove and her mother were lead into the dining room, where they sat at the long table and the Mayor beckoned over a servant._

_ "Please bring out the dishes, we'd like to begin the first course," he said in a merry voice that covered up his pompous manner of speech. "Oh, where's Cato? He should be down here by now…his mother must still be fussing over him."_

_ Before they began to eat, Clove excused herself to the restroom. She took tentative steps up the stairs that led to the second floor, careful not to trip on her gown. The only reason she really wanted to go to the restroom was to look around the mansion. It was so extravagant. Gold framed mirrors hung at every corner, rugs that had intricate patterns sewn on them, and vases filled with large bouquets which contributed to the perfume like scent in the home._

_ "Looking for something?" said an impish voice from behind her. "The bathroom's that way if you're looking for it."_

_ Jumping, Clove spun around to face a large blonde boy, but large in the manner of muscular. Short cropped hair and chiseled features. He leered at her._

_ "I was only looking around," replied Clove defiantly, hands clasped behind her back. _

_ "You're the girl with the knives. I saw you demonstrating today."_

_ "And you're the boy with the sword. I've seen you cut up lots of dummies." _

_ Sizing each other up for the moment, Cato finally said, "Shall I escort you down to dinner, then? We wouldn't want them to think you've snuck off."_

_ Giving a small, reluctant smile, she took his offered arm and they went downstairs. When they arrived in the dining room, Clove's mother had an expression torn between confusion and delight, while the Mayor only laughed loudly. _

"Clove!"

She jerked up from her daze, almost falling out of the tree. Down below was Cato, calling out her name. He spotted the debris of dead animals on the ground and looked around before finally looking upwards.

"What do you want?" Clove said, her stomach tightening as she spotted his face up from her branch.

"First off, you need to clean up down here," he replied with a touch of mockery. "Secondly, we're going hunting, because if you haven't noticed it's past noon! When you _said _you'd be back."

Scowling, Clove made her way down from the tree and plucked her knives off the animal corpses scattered on the ground.

"Did you really have to make such a mess?" asked Cato in an annoyed voice before kicking a dead squirrel out of the way.

"I figured attacking small forest animals was a better idea than cutting off your tongue," retorted Clove. "Believe me; I've been itching to do it since after the fire."

They glared at each other before meeting up with Marvel, Glimmer, and Peeta a ways back.

"Well, let's head out," said Cato after glancing over everyone. "Maybe we'll even find Katniss Everdeen today, if we're lucky. Not so lucky for lover boy, I guess."

Everyone else snickered as Peeta's face fell, his expression scared and insolent.

They would indeed be lucky later, though. Through the still present smoke and damaged forest, the Careers would find Katniss Everdeen, and lose of their own.


End file.
